


Little Black Death

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hackle, Married Couple, shameless glasses kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 13:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: As Hecate paces back and forth in front her desk, squinting to read out her very long list of complaints, Ada cannot take it any longer.  Her wife needs reading glasses, whether she likes it or not.  Hackle.*spoilers for 3.02 Double Hubble*





	Little Black Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something silly inspired by a conversation between the lovely Yesdilex and detectivecaz over on twitter, as they pointed out that in one very humorous scene, Hecate was clearly struggling to read her list to Ada. There are spoilers in this story for Series 3, Episode 2! I mention that because it has not yet aired, but is on iPlayer for viewing, so be warned before you read this story if you don't want to know anything about it.

“… Ten twenty three, _Ms._ Hubble was observed engaging in inappropriate contact with a member of staff in front of the pupils…”

Ada sighed.  Hecate had been pacing her office for the past five minutes listing off a seemingly endless account of Julie Hubble’s supposed infractions, and she hadn’t even reached lunchtime yet.

“Technically I believe that was Miss Drill’s fault,” Ada provided carefully. 

“Ten thirty seven,” Hecate continued.  She was pointedly ignoring Ada’s defenses now, and it took everything within Ada not to roll her eyes at her overtly dramatic wife.

On she went, pacing sharply from one end of her desk to the other, reading out her list with a strikingly keen pronunciation.  It was absurd how many thing she’d written down in one day about Julie Hubble, and if she wasn’t already Ada’s wife, she thought she might have cause to be jealous.  Ada chuckled to herself aloud at that thought, causing Hecate to glance over and pause her pacing.

“Do you find something humorous about failure to properly recycle?”

“Oh no, of course not,” Ada said, putting on a serious façade and nodding.  “You’re very right to bring this to my attention, dear, however…”

“I’m not finished quite yet,” Hecate interrupted before she could be stopped.  And on she went, listing off her times and rules in a level of detail even murder investigators would envy, holding out that damn book so far in front of her and squinting away at it.

Hecate could be so stubborn about wearing glasses.

It was obvious to Ada that she could barely read her own book, and while that may have been a blessing if she wasn’t so determined to persevere regardless, it was maddening to watch her wife continue to struggle for no reason.

The glasses, of course, had been an issue of contention between them for a few months now.  Ada had noticed her beginning to squint a little harder as the years aged on, and had thought it would be a nice surprise to gift her with a pair of reading glasses.  They were simple, elegant and black—exactly the pair Hecate would pick if given the choice, she knew.  Yet Ada had never actually seen them on her face.  She’d been quiet when she opened them, muttering a tight thanks and an excuse that had her gone before Ada could think, and any time she’d brought them up since, Hecate said she’d misplaced them.

Hecate _everything-has-one-perfect-exact-place_ Hardbroom actually thought Ada would believe her capable of repeatedly losing a pair of reading glasses.

So Ada had done the only reasonable thing—she’d purchased a second pair, housed in the top drawer of her desk, and waited for the perfect opportunity to pull them out.  Now seemed like just that moment.

With a gentle wave of her hand, Ada transferred the glasses from their hidden place directly onto Hecate’s face.  For a moment, it seemed as though she wasn’t going to comment on it, and Ada thought she was going to get off relatively easy for once.

But then Hecate froze.  Ada watched, holding her own breath, as Hecate’s eyes widened before one hand reached up and felt at the unfamiliar accessory now settled atop her ears.

“What is this?” she asked slowly, narrowing her eyes in Ada’s direction for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, I got you a new pair of reading glasses the other day, since you lost the first pair,” Ada replied cheerily.  “You seemed to be struggling to read your vendetta against Julie Hubble.”

“I didn’t… I mean…” Hecate closed her eyes and blew out her breath through her nose, settling herself.  “That was not necessary, Ada.  My vision is perfect.”

“That notebook begs to differ, my dear,”

“Witches do not need glasses,” Hecate quipped, stiffening and nodding to herself.

Ada met Hecate’s eyes, through her _glasses_ , and stared pointedly.  “Don’t we?”  Her voice was calm, and she watched as a pink flush spread across Hecate’s cheeks—the only time she ever took on such a color.

“Well, obviously, some witches do need them of course, however—“

“However, you don’t wish to?  Is that right?”

Hecate stared at her carefully, like she was waiting for the trap to close in on her if she answered wrong, and Ada knew she’d successfully cornered her wife. 

“I have never needed them, I see no reason that should suddenly change now,” Hecate sniffed.

“Your vision can change, Hecate, especially with age,” Ada explained as though she were talking to a child rather than her very petulant wife.

“Yes, well, since I am apparently _ancient_ now…”

“Ahh, so that’s what this is all about.  You’re upset about my comment earlier,” Ada surmised.  “There’s nothing wrong with aging, Hecate, nor with needing a little help to read as you do it.”

“Not just that,” Hecate confessed, sinking just slightly into herself.  It wouldn’t be noticeable to most, but Ada could always see the subtleties in Hecate trying to relax.  “Truthfully I have noticed the decline in my ability to read as of late.  It is… most inconvenient.”

Ada rolled her eyes and stood, smiling lovingly up at her wife as she walked over and took the book from her hands.  “Of course it’s inconvenient, that’s why you need the glasses.”

“But what if they look weak, and the students begin to take me less seriously?  That is not a risk we can afford, Ada, especially with _Ms._ Hubble waltzing about breaking the code every two seconds,” she seethed.  It was a clear diversion, and Ada could see if she didn’t act quickly, Hecate would return to her list and ignore the much more pressing issue at hand.

“Do you think the students don’t take me seriously?” she asked, frowning.

Ada was well aware Hecate thought no such thing, but it did the trick.  She floundered a bit, looking taken aback as the events turned against her, and Ada patiently waited.

“Of course not, Headmistress.  However, it is different for me, they expect a certain level of fear to be instilled upon them.”  Hecate’s argument was weakening by the second.

“I see,” Ada hummed.  “Just to humor me for a second, dear, come over here.”  She touched a hand to Hecate’s elbow, waiting for a nod of permission before she led her over to the mirror on her office wall.  “Now, I still see a smart, beautiful witch, who just so happens to be able to finally read without looking a little ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Hecate asked, looking down at her in exasperation.  “Is it _that_ noticeable?”

“Quite,” Ada sighed, patting her arm where she held it.  “But that’s not why I brought you over here.  Now, I want you to look in this mirror and tell me what you see.  Do you really think the glasses look that bad?”

She paused and waited for Hecate to assess her own face.  It wasn’t often Hecate spent much time looking at herself in the mirror.  It’s not that she didn’t care about her appearance—quite to the contrary, she was more particular about it than most people Ada had met in her life—but Hecate’s routine was almost indelible, occasionally shifting to a slightly darker shade of lip if the mood struck her just so.  She saw no reason beyond vanity to look, and so she frequently did not bother to.

Now, she took the time to study herself slowly, which gave Ada the time to study the way she responded to the change.  As Hecate’s face softened, turning occasionally at different angles, Ada took in how nicely the frames truly complemented her face.  In fact, they more than suited her—she looked positively ravishing in them.  Ada swallowed thickly and bit her bottom lip.  These were doomed to be her little black death.

“I suppose they’re not atrocious,” Hecate said distractedly, still assessing them in the mirror.

“Quite the contrary, I’d say they look very, uhm…” she fought for the right word, not wanting to sound crude, yet every word she came up with just didn’t feel like it was _enough_ to fully cover the reaction Ada was having to seeing her wife in reading glasses.

Hecate turned to her with a curious eyebrow raised, and Ada knew she was caught when she smirked.

“Ada are you…?”

 Ada started blushing.

“Oh, I see,” Hecate purred, suddenly looking much more comfortable in the new glasses.  “Perhaps it is a pity I only need them for reading.  Had I known they would elicit such a _reaction_ I might have donned a pair sooner.”

Ada cleared her throat and tried to pull herself back together.  It was the middle of a workday after all, and apparently _some_ students no longer considered knocking a prerequisite to barging into her office, so they really should stop.

Hecate’s hand found Ada’s chin, holding her in place as she bent down, still in the glasses, and kissed her wife.  It was the kind of kiss that could go places—one she recognized all too well, and even as she shut her eyes she could still picture Hecate in those glasses and suddenly that thought took precedence over everything else, and she was kissing her right up against the wall of her office in the middle of the day without caution.

And who knows what might have come of their newest discovery—Ada never would, for at that moment a faint but definite yelling could be heard echoing down the halls.  Hecate pulled away from the kiss, a smirk growing across her face where Ada’s took on confusion.

“What’s that?” Ada growled, annoyed.

“Sounds like Julie Hubble,” Hecate purred, ever the perfect cat about to trap her mouse. 

It was clear this time there would be no distracting her from the Hubble matter at hand.  Kiss apparently forgotten, Hecate transferred away her new reading glasses, and Ada mourned them sadly.  Undoubtedly, this pair too would go “missing,” and she cursed herself under her breath for once more inviting trouble right in through the front doors of Cackle’s.

 

 

Later that night, Ada was more than exhausted.  She was ready to collapse into her bed after a long day of disappointments and trouble.  Her wife had been relentlessly at war with Julie Hubble since dawn, and the only thing that truly set them apart from the children, as far as Ada was concerned, was that their battle never extended past words.  Julie Hubble had not been turned into anything unsavory, and for that, Ada was grateful for Hecate’s firm adherence to the code.

It wasn’t surprising to find Hecate curled up in her bed.  Though they often kept to their own chambers during the terms, for the convenience of the students, occasionally Hecate would wander over after lights out.

What was surprising tonight, however, was that Hecate was still awake reading on her side of the bed, and she was _wearing_ the reading glasses.

“Are you liking them?” Ada asked excitedly as she set about changing.

“Quite,” Hecate said succinctly, not looking up from her book and giving no indication as to her true feelings on the matter.

“I’m glad to hear it.”  She finished readying herself for bed, wanting to comment on them further, but afraid any discussion would put Hecate off them again.  The look of her in them really did do something to Ada, and she couldn’t resist peeking over at her occasionally.  As she crawled into bed, Ada shifted nervously and waited.

With a quiet, patiently slow motion, Hecate shut her book and set it on the nightstand.  Notably, the glasses remained on.

“Are you going to read something else?” Ada asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Perhaps.  Unless….”

“Unless?” She perked up, looking over at her wife in her perfect black frames.

“I had been thinking…. It is a shame we were interrupted earlier.  Before I throw these into the next potion that explodes in my lab, I was thinking we could—“

Ada didn’t wait for Hecate to finish the sentence, lest something distract her once more from the matter at hand, and she cut her off with a kiss.

_Oh one thirty five, they engaged in improper acts of sexual conduct on school premises, in violation of--_


End file.
